


soft sound

by red__moon



Series: brief inquiries. [2]
Category: The 1975 (Band)
Genre: Architecture porn, Bands, Chair Sex, Dirty Talk, F/M, Friends to Lovers, One Shot, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Power Play, Quiet Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23305024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red__moon/pseuds/red__moon
Summary: In which Matty is an old friend/flame, and has some making up to do for being a bit of an idiot. But he makes up for it VERY well.Situated in the glamorous environs of the Royal Albert Hall, at an unspecified awards ceremony.Matty’s eyes were lit up with anticipation, and excitement at what had passed between us. His still-parted lips were flushed, closing momentarily around the end of the cigarette. When he spoke, his voice was deep, resolute - making a statement, not asking a question.‘I want to make you feel so fucking good.’
Relationships: Matthew Healy/Original Female Character(s)
Series: brief inquiries. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925500
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	soft sound

**Author's Note:**

> Have you ever seen the inside of the Royal Albert Hall? I see it at concerts every year and it's just gorgeous. Please google it if you can, you'll see why I thought it was a very glamorous place to have a secretive, glamorous tryst in the Gallery.  
> Lots of awards ceremonies take place there, including a few that Matty has attended(!).

It had been at least a year, maybe more, and the last time I had seen Matty he had not been in such good shape as this. It had been backstage at a festival somewhere in Europe, and although we had begun to talk and catch up, his attention was quickly diverted by another girl, and then one of his bandmates, and then _another_ girl. In short, it was apparent that he was not easy to 'catch up' with; on the contrary, he seemed to live and operate at a hundred miles per hour.

So at the time, I hadn't been bothered about chasing an interaction with Matty, despite fondly remembering our antics when sharing the studio back in 2015. Well, the studio building - he was recording next door to us, whilst we were slaving away on our debut album, although I caught breaks whenever I could. This was when Matty and I would walk around the block, dropping by the same coffee shop and having a smoke in the same park practically every day for four weeks.

Ever since, whilst his band soared into the upper echelons of the industry, I became increasingly bored with my band's output, and the direction it was all going in. The relationships between us had become embittered, and where we had once had each other's backs, we now kept to ourselves, on tour and at home, cloistered in our own little worlds. It wasn't anybody's fault, really - we just led very different lives. I privately anticipated that our next release, which was currently being mastered, would be our last.

And yet that still hadn't stopped us from being nominated for a couple of awards this year, at a ceremony that was held at the Royal Albert Hall, of all places. It was my turn to show up in case we won anything, which wasn't too much of a chore; I loved the Albert Hall, its lavish red velvet furnishing and burnished gold touches, not to mention the room itself - an enormous, arching dome that screamed of history, and lent any music played within its walls a certain grandiosity.

And tonight, Matty was in very good shape indeed. I had glimpsed him on the steps, getting his photo taken, in an impeccable black tuxedo and sunglasses that were probably only half ironic. Due to the prestige of the evening, I had tried to dress accordingly, in a green crepe dress I had fished out of the thirties section of Pennies in Clerkenwell, finished with a wide black velvet ribbon around my waist. The sumptuous material was delicate and fragile from age, but I figured I would be fine if I manoeuvred around carefully that evening. I could tell that it used to be floor-length, but had been altered at some point in its life, and now skimmed a couple of inches above my knees.

It was a blissfully mild summer evening. You couldn't have asked for a better night for any of it, really, and although I harboured some mild social anxiety about who on earth I might sit at a table with once inside, I was too contented at the sight of the food and alcohol laid out, and the warm glow inside the hall, to allow this to cloud my mood. I scanned the faces nearest to me, and spotted a few recognisable, possibly friendly ones - but before they clocked me too, a disarming voice spoke quietly into my ear from behind.

'Been a while, hasn't it?'

I spun around to face him, unable to hide the broad smile that spread across my face. 'Matty, you sneak!'

He gave me a hug, a genuine, earnest one; the sunglasses were off, his dark eyes twinkling with high spirits as he appraised me, and my body in the green dress. I secretly rather liked feeling his gaze flicker up and down. 'Fuck, this is different to the skater kid thing. Can't wear the Black Flag shirt, I suppose?'

'You remember!' I laughed. 'Where was that?'

'Primavera, last year. I was kind of out of it, I'm sorry.'

 _Wow. I hadn't expected him to be so circumspect_. I waved his apology away. 'Don't worry about it. You were busy.'

'But I did. And yeah, I was, but not in the right way. I was kicking myself when I realised you'd disappeared.'

'We were in Spain.' I eyed a server that was drawing close with a tray of brimming champagne glasses. 'We had to catch a flight the next day. I wasn't about to stay up all night drinking and watching you necking with random people.' I winced at the sound of my own voice; my tone was verging on sarcastic, which was certainly _not_ the impression I wanted to give.

Matty shrugged sheepishly. 'I know. I'm sorry, that was self-absorbed.'

'Okay, don't beat yourself up,' I poked him in the chest playfully. 'Where are you sitting? You can bring me up to date.'

'I haven't even looked yet. I'm sure I can persuade someone to swap out...'

Sometimes it _was_ possible to meddle with the table layouts, but there wasn't any wiggle room in this one, to our disappointment. Resigned to my spot near the stalls, I watched as he took his own seat at the band's table near the stage, lithe and slender amongst the crowd. He had always been incredibly handsome, but it used to be in a raffish, slightly sleazy way. Now he seemed more polished, more healthy - even gentlemanlike, a word I would never have thought could describe him.

But there he was, pouring out a large glass of wine and meeting my gaze as he took a sip, with a look that told me he was up to no good tonight. Yes, maybe it was good to retract the use of gentlemanlike.

***

After an hour, I was bored stiff. There was only so much time I could spend staring at the architectural intricacies of the Hall. If I was being frank with myself, the only thing that interested me that evening was Matty, and he was having a good old time over on his table with various friends and acquaintances. It felt self-indulgent and almost piteous to admit it to myself, but he was so magnetic there was really little else to focus on.

The enormous round tables were loaded with all manner of alcohol, but the champagne was going the fastest. I grabbed a spare bottle of Pol Roger to keep for myself, before it got swiped by anyone else, and a clean glass, getting up to find some respite in the cavernous circular corridors and, hopefully, the gallery, which looked mostly empty apart from the equipment stored up there.

Nobody batted an eyelash as I sauntered up the steps and back out into the lobby. The air was slightly cooler here; I had forgotten how stuffy it got in the main room. I pushed the door to one of the staircases open, and the sound of my footsteps echoed in the prettily tiled stairwell.

Up one flight of steps, then two, and three, to the circle. I wandered down plush, red carpeted hallways for what felt like an endless distance, past curtained doorways and deserted bars, before coming to the side entrance to the choir stalls.

I paused here, and placed my half-empty champagne glass on the ledge that ran along the side of the corridor, popping the cork from the bottle to refill it. It almost spilled, though, as I spotted some movement out of the corner of my eye, and turned to see Matty pacing quietly down the hallway towards me.

'Damn it, you're quiet,' I shook my head, feeling slightly flustered at being discovered.

'You're hard to find. I saw you leave out the back... didn't want a repeat of last time.'

I felt my cheeks redden, the guilt at making a fuss about that prickling at me now. Matty stood about a metre away, leaning indolently against the ledge and gazing intently at me. His dark hair was combed back from his face neatly, but it curled defiantly behind his ears, always threatening to escape and fall forward. He reached out for the champagne glass.

'Can I?'

I nodded and passed him the drink, watching as he tipped the lot into his mouth. He pulled a face as he set the glass down again, his self-possessed composure slipping, and I laughed.

'Let's top that up... there.' I smiled broadly as I refilled the glass, properly this time. 'Okay, so you followed me up here. Won't they all wonder where you've got to?'

He shrugged. 'Don't really care. We weren't going to get time otherwise.'

'Time for what?'

'Oh, you know. Making amends.' He was trying to be self-deprecating, but it didn't suit him very well. There was always this rather affected, hubristic manner about him, although this had never been off-putting. I always knew when he was truly putting on an act, versus when I was seeing the real Matty.

'Alright then,' I smirked, turning to face him fully. 'Are you a reformed character?'

He looked mollified now. 'Yes, actually. I know I said this downstairs, but I do feel like a right twat, about the way I treated you. But I won't harp on about it. How are the others?'

I pulled a face. 'I wouldn't know. I haven't seen anyone in a while... the last I heard, Connor was moving in with his girlfriend, and Gina has her new side project. Neither of them have reached out since we played Ally Pally, but I suppose we'll have to get together to do press for the album.'

'Shit. I'm sorry, that's a shame. I'm glad you're on awards duty tonight though. Did you prepare a speech?'

'Fuck, no. I came here to dress up and drink free champagne. This gorgeous place is a bonus.'

Matty's gaze followed mine up to the framed panorama photograph of an orchestra above our heads. 'Have you seen it from the gallery?'

I shook my head, and his expression altered, to one of almost childish glee.

'Oh, you _have_ to. I'll show you.'

His hand grasped mine confidently, his slender fingers interlinking with mine - forward as ever, some things didn't change. Luckily for him I could be agile too, and once we pushed open another door into a stairwell, I took the steps two at a time, climbing up ahead of him.

It took another two flights of stairs before the sign above the doors at one half-landing announced we had reached the gallery, and I pushed them open softly. The sounds of the hall flooded in again; we had a perfect view of the ceremony below, but from an invisible perch. The gallery was enormous, an upper tier that stretched around the full circumference of the room, interspersed with columns and half filled with broadcasting equipment, stacks of chairs, music stands, and rolls and rolls of red velvet drapes. And of course, it was utterly devoid of people. We had the place to ourselves.

'Take a peek over the edge, if you've got a head for heights,' Matty whispered from behind me, a hand resting lightly on the small of my back. Despite all his attempts at smoothness, I could hear he was slightly out of breath from the climb.

'Fucking hell,' I muttered as I craned my neck to glimpse the people that filled the boxes in the Grand Tier. That was as high as the place was filled that evening, thankfully; ordinarily, anyone sat in the Circle would have been able to hear us, or even see us if they were sat on the other side of the hall. But for all intents and purposes, we were invisible to everyone now.

'Do you reckon there's a smoke alarm up here?' Matty drifted away, along the curve of the Gallery's landing.

'Can't see one.'

'Good,' - and he lit a cigarette, his face illuminated for half a second by the flash of the lighter. I strode after him, to catch up.

'Pass it over.'

I deliberately kept eye contact as I inhaled, enjoying the way he stared again. Matty's company emboldened me, the excesses of the night taking effect, and I stepped a little further forward, until our faces were barely six inches apart. I exhaled to the side, and as I turned my head back, he kissed me gently. Two years' worth of flirting and fooling about without any serious physical contact came rushing to a head, and his hands came up to my face as our tongues met, mingling with hot breaths. I held the cigarette out to the side, faintly wary of dropping it, but his hand felt along my wrist to my hand, and he broke away from the kiss as he took the cigarette from between my fingers.

Matty's eyes were lit up with anticipation, and excitement at what had passed between us. His still-parted lips were flushed, closing momentarily around the end of the cigarette. When he spoke, his voice was deep, resolute - making a statement, not asking a question.

'I want to make you feel so fucking good.'

My head spun trying to think of a response that communicated just how much I would like that, without sounding desperate. 'How do you plan to do that?'

'However you want.' He stubbed the cigarette out on the stone balustrade, leaving it there before leaning in to press his lips to my neck, just below my ear. I closed my eyes in an unsuccessful attempt to steady myself.

'You'll have to do it quietly then,' I smirked.

'How do I know _you'll_ stay quiet?' Matty muttered in my ear, before resuming his path down my neck. I clapped a hand to my mouth to prevent a peal of laughter at the ridiculousness of our situation.

Well, if he was offering, I was certainly accepting. One of my hands went to the back of his head, my fingers entwining in the soft black coils of hair, and the other closed over his own hand which was firmly grasping my waist. I moved it down and behind me, guiding his eager fingers to clutch at my arse; they squeezed it licentiously through the material of my dress and summoned arousal between my legs.

Slowly, we backed up towards the wall, and Matty's hands wandered back around, toying with the front of the dress' short hem and brushing against my inner thighs. My hips jutted forward reflexively, and I encouraged his touch. 'You don't need my permission, you know.'

He answered me with his actions, his fingers immediately massaging me over the navy silk of my underwear. 'Hmm... I didn't know I turned you on this much.'

'Don't get cocky,' I silenced him with my lips again, kissing almost harshly. His tongue clashed with mine, and he tilted his head to one side as his fingers slipped under the elastic waistband, stroking the sensitive skin until finally dipping to toy with my clit, an almost overwhelming sensation. _Okay, maybe he could afford to be cocky._

Matty's kisses tailed off as he concentrated on my reaction to the movement of his hand, and he kept his gaze fixedly on my expression as he bent his knees, rocking back onto his heels so that his face was inches away from my crotch. He removed his hand briefly, but confidently pulled my underwear down over my hips, and pressed the lips that were formerly on my mouth to the top of my pubic bone. I tried not to squirm as his tongue traced lightly down, parting the folds and flickering either side of my clit. I hoisted the hem of my dress up, partly to give him access and partly to appreciate the sight of his face between my thighs, solely concerned with pleasuring me well.

Two of his fingers curled inside me, pressing from the other side, and I reached out blindly, my hand finding nothing but the flocked wallpaper to claw at as intense, warm ripples coursed through my lower body. There was no point standing like this any longer; I knew I wouldn't be able to come if I had to worry about supporting myself. I gently touched his jaw, and Matty looked up, his pink tongue tracing the outline of his lips where my taste was left.

'I can't stay standing up. I can't come like this.'

'Will a chair do?'

I nodded. He eyed the stack of chairs that sat a couple of metres away, and lifted one, placing it against the wall.

'Sit.' Matty eyed me darkly, hungrily. I did as he asked, and he ducked between my legs again, twice as determined. He wasn't at all fazed when I went to squeeze them together reflexively, propping one leg over his shoulder with one hand and steadying my torso with the other, as my stomach convulsed uncontrollably. Men had tried to go down on me before but never to this effect, never succeeding quite so gloriously as Matty was doing now. It was altogether too much and perfectly enough at the same time - the cool fabric of his suit jacket under the hot skin of my thigh, the tickle of his hair on my lower stomach, the insistent lapping of his tongue and lips around my clit. I didn't recognise the sound that came from my mouth as I came, tipping my head back and exhaling with a cry that might have sounded pained, if I hadn't been experiencing such exquisite pleasure.

'Knew it - _not_ quiet,' Matty breathed with a cheeky glint in his eye, before drawing out the final waves of my orgasm with the strength of his tongue.

I barely had time to feel self-conscious; the skirt of my dress was hoisted up around ribcage, but Matty pulled it down, finding the zip at the side of my body and pulling it down to loosen the fabric around my chest. 'I'm sure at this point you should be shedding a layer or two, here,' I giggled, tugging at the lapel of his suit jacket.

'Fair,' Matty stood, shrugging it off his shoulders, and yanked at the narrow black tie around his neck. I rose to my feet and unbuttoned his trousers. He was already hard, his erection barely suppressed by the soft white cotton Calvins he wore, but his movements hesitated for a moment. 'I don't have anything, you know. A condom.'

'I'd be surprised if you did. But I'm on the pill.' I kissed his neck, enjoying the opportunity to tease him now. He sighed, a low vibration that I felt through my lips, and suddenly spun me around; I lurched forward as he sat on the chair, pulling me down with him.

At that moment, an deafening round of applause sounded from far below, the cheers of people sat at the stuffy round tables reverberating up to the enormous domed ceiling. I sat up straight, warily glancing behind me, but Matty's mouth took advantage of this and tugged down the material of my dress to expose my chest, pressing messy kisses against my breasts.

'Fuck,' I muttered, tipping my head back to let him suck gently at my nipples, and lick a trail up the middle of my chest. My hands wandered to his crotch, barely inches away from mine, and I released his cock from his underwear, feeling its satisfying dimensions with my fingers. Impatient, I inched my hips forward so that I could rub against its length, my knickers lost somewhere between the fetching of the chair and my last orgasm. It was the best feeling I could have imagined so far, and he wasn't even inside me yet.

Even the unfaltering Matty was struggling to maintain his composure. The head of his cock touched my clit, and it was either the physical heat or the edging closer to slipping inside, but he moaned into my mouth as we continued to kiss, our tongues enjoying the taste of one another.

'Was this what you had in mind?' I whispered.

'Is now really the best time for that... god, that's good.' He was breathless, which I found highly erotic.

'What do you want me to do?'

'Whatever you want. Use me however you want.'

In response, I tilted my hips forward and slowly sank downwards over Matty, feeling myself expand within, adjusting slowly, tilting again slightly, until our stomachs touched and we were both at our limits. Hooking an arm over his shoulder, I began to shift back and forth again, gliding over him smoothly and grinding down gradually as my comfort grew.

'Fucking hell, you feel... so good.' Matty's lips were parted, his brow furrowed in intensity. 'I used to... imagine this, but never thought - it could be this good - ah, fuck.'

'Stop or you're going to make me laugh.' I pushed his hair back from his face, feeling the dampness there from his exertion and becoming aware of my own fatigue.

'Outrageous.' Matty sat up suddenly, and I fell back - not hard, or painfully, but we both rolled playfully onto the soft, carpeted floor. My legs wrapped tightly around him and he thrust into me, hard. I inhaled sharply, my own mouth dropping open. He was bearing down on me, fucking with complete abandon, and I could feel heat and pressure building below my abdomen again. He recognised my convulsions now, and murmured insistently in my ear between thrusts of his hips. 'Come for me... _fuck_. Come on, love...'

Matty's words were the final straw; I clung to his slender body as I rode out another orgasm, clenching violently. A few seconds later, he paused and buried his face in my neck as I felt him come inside me, and we rested like that.

'What happened to 'use me'?' I chuckled, kissing his cheek lightly.

'You made fun of me,' he raised an eyebrow. 'I'm kidding...'

'I always knew you had it in you. Always kind of wanted to fuck you back when we were in the studio.'

'God, me too. This is some wish fulfilment, dream-come-true shit.'

I paused, and craned my neck to see his facial expression, in case he was just being glib. But his eyes were half-closed in satisfaction, his cheek now resting on my shoulder. _I could hold him for hours if given the chance_ , I thought to myself.

'Let me find my knickers, and then what do you say to some dinner? That's unless getting in my pants was your only objective this evening.'

'What? No - _no_.' his eyes widened as he started to push himself upright. 'Please. I'd love to get dinner.'

'Okay. And then maybe we can do this again.' I pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, taking the opportunity to breathe him in again briefly. He smelled lightly of hair product and cigarettes and sex. But expensive hair product, the organic, bougie sort fragranced with stuff like bergamot and musk.

We took the stairs down again, more slowly this time. After almost four years, patience came easy now.

**Author's Note:**

> Did I rush this? Yeah, kinda. But I needed an outlet whilst I write my v v long multi-chaptered monstrosity (jk I'm so excited to publish but will be a little while still, this is once again to stoke some interest).


End file.
